The light that welcomed me into lumereth dimmed behind me , the gateway folding in on itself like a dream forgotten at dawn .
I was alone now truly alone.
The air felt different here , cool and heavy, but not oppressive.
It was like breathing in the silence between thoughts, or the pause between the last line of a poem on the turning of page.
My feet touched the ground, yet nothing felt solid.
Trees swayed in invisible winds , their leaves shimmering like thoughts not yet formed.
As I walked, I felt it
"The fear"
Not fear of beasts or death,
But fear of the unknown.
The kind that crept in quiety, whispering doubts in the voice of younger self.
What if this all for nothing?
What if you're chasing illusions?
What if you're not the one?
I shook my head, pressing forward.
The forest path thinned, leading me to a vast clearing and there I saw them
" The whispering winds"
They went winds in the normal sence
They were shapes of swirling light and dust, moving with purpose, circling ancient stones curved with languages I couldn't read, as stepped closer, the winds spokes not in words but in stories.
At first faint.
A voice like a child
"I once wanted to build wings and fly . I tried, no one saw me fall."
Another weary and cracked.
" I loved her, but I never said it. Not even once."
And then a hundred more, weaving through the trees, dancing like forgotten memories.
These were not just winds
They were echoes of dreams , unfinished stories, unspoken truths.
They chilled me deeper than any storm.
I wanted to run.
But something in me ,
The ember lit by Aurelios's words, held me still. I stepped forward and let the winds brush against me.
For a moment, I saw them .
A boy with paint stained hands sketching worlds on his walls.
A woman hiding songs in letters she never sent .
An old man closing his eyes, seeing a different life that might have been.
I felt them
These people, these fragments. They were real.
They were imagination unspoken.
And they nodded a voice.
I whispered ,
" I hear you"
The winds slowed. One stream of light circled me ,gently,like a ribbon.
It pressed against my chest right where my talisman rested .
A warmth bloomed, and a single word burned in my mind.
"Remember"
Then ,they drifted away softly, like they had been waiting for someone to listen.
Beyond the clearing, I climbed a narrow hill.
At it's peak, the world stretched wide and to my shock the sky above was ... colorless.
No sun. No stars . Just un endless pale gray, like blank parchment refusing to be written on.
The colorless skies loomed mute, empty, terrifying.
I stood frozen. Is this what imagination becomes when it is forgotten?
I remembered the elders in Ardalen saying.
"A world without imagination is a world without color"
Now I saw it.
As I stood, something stirred beside me.
A young girl -barefoot, cloaked in translucent silk -sat painting the sky with a brush made of light.
Her strokes left faint traces -blues,violets but the color vanished the moment she moved on.
"I paint, but it does not stay"
She said without turning.
"The sky forgets".
"Why ?" I asked.
She sighed.
"Because no one believes. Not even me."
Silence.
Then I knelt beside her.
" Tell me what you see,when you dream and what you imagine of the world".
She hesitated ,then whispered
"I see dragons dancing over fields of starlight. I see cities made of books.
I see.."
Her voice trembled
"A boy like you painting with me."
The wind stilled .her brush glowed brighter.
I reached out, placing my hand besides hers.
" Then let's paint it together."
She smiled faintly, sadly but with hope.
Together we painted one line then another. Slowly, the glay sky shimmered one stream of color remaining,then another. Not all. But enough.
It was a start.
I left her at the hill top, heart steadier than before.
As I walked deeper into lumereth, I whispered to myself.
"Imagination is not just the wild .it is the wounded, the waiting. And it is worth finding."
The realm had shown me it's fears.
Now, I would learn it's truth.